


My Blue Heaven

by Kiyaar



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M, Morning Sex, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/pseuds/Kiyaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This for allthewonderfulstony, who won my birthday giveaway and wanted "all kinds of smut." And love, there's some love, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Blue Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Мои голубые небеса](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421064) by [littledoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledoctor/pseuds/littledoctor)



> Originally written for [allthewonderfulstony](http://allthewonderfulstony.tumblr.com) who won my birthday giveaway. 
> 
> She asked for: “All kinds of smut with Steve fucking Tony in Steve’s bed because it’s super intimate and wonderful. And if you could somehow include a flashback or something of the exact moment Tony realized he was in love, that would be absolutely marvelous.”

It’s early. 

Tony exists between sleep and waking, in the bliss that lies between the down comforter and the sheets and the angle of his neck on the pillow, and there are fingers running down his spine –

Steve and his massive body shift next to him, and Tony makes a half-noise in his throat and burrows back into the pillows.

Steve rubs himself against Tony’s bare hip, and he’s rock-hard.

“Whassit,” Tony murmurs, hazy. “Steve.”

Steve doesn’t answer, not with words, just brushes the hair out of Tony’s face where it’s mashed into the mattress and ghosts his lips against Tony’s temples, and gently, gently pulls Tony’s legs apart. 

Tony isn’t awake, but he’s aware enough to feel his cock trapped beneath him, the way his balls have started to ache, the way he’s starting to harden.

He makes the decision to be still, and shuts his eyes, and opens his mouth to Steve’s kiss.

He feels like one of Steve’s art projects, his body arranged and coaxed until his briefs have been eased away and one of his legs has been hiked up next to his chest. Steve’s hands are hot, always so hot, and he pulls the comforter down so it’s just Tony, bare, Tony, in the dark, Steve finding the knots in his shoulders but not attending to them, not now, that’s not what this is for, Steve, dripping something cold onto his back, dragging his fingers through it, sliding his way down to rest against Tony’s ass –

Tony gasps, a little, into the sheets, but Steve doesn’t slow, or still, just plants a hand gently on the back of his neck.

Tony stays quiet, his breath hitching in little gasps and he swears he can _hear_ Steve smiling in the dark, above him. They’ve never done it like this, not this blind trust and groping in the dark, but Tony sighs into it all, sighs when Steve gets his index finger all the way in and stops, just feeling, just resting in him, gasps when it becomes two, _moans_ when he doesn’t add a third and Steve just sits there with his hand on Tony’s back, working him open in the silence and the dark, sliding deep enough into him that his fingers come out slicker than just lube from what they did – hours ago, now.  

Steve swings a leg over Tony’s bare ass to straddle him.  

His arms never tremble when he does this, when he plants his hands on either side of Tony’s head and leans down to kiss the nape of his neck. He is solid, and he is Tony’s rock, and he rubs his cock against Tony’s lower back, his balls sliding against the slick leaking out of him.

As if it’s any explanation, Steve bends to whisper in his ear.

“I want you,” he says, and Tony’s halfway to a smile when he has to stop to gasp, because Steve is already _in_.

It’s so slow, so sudden, but Steve stops as soon as he’s all the way in, as soon as Tony stills under him again, and pulls out, slowly, metered and disciplined even in this, before he slides home again with enough force to push Tony’s body a few inches up the mattress.

Steve is making noise, gasping and panting and staccato sighs on every thrust, and that’s all they need, here, and Tony is hard, so hard it hurts, he needs to move or pull his cock behind him or something but Steve is in him, Steve is pressed into every crevice of his body and he never wants it to stop. He fists his fingers in the pillow and Steve huffs out a laugh and presses them tighter, his chest to Tony’s back, his hands coming up to lace in Tony’s.

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony hears himself say, and Steve picks up, raises his tempo to slapping and heat and sweat sliding itchy down his skin. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, because this is perfect, because Steve is kissing his ear and whispering things to him, _I know you’re awake_ and _Shellhead_ and _I want this, I, all the time, Tony, I_ love _you, god –_

He doesn’t care if he comes, he doesn’t care if Steve just passes out when he’s finished, he doesn’t care how long until he feels the twitch of Steve spilling inside him. He doesn’t care how loud the sound of Steve’s balls slapping against his is in the room, doesn’t care that the only sounds uttered are their breathing, their silent acknowledgment of this, whatever this is –

_I love you._

He is sleeping in a bed with 200 thread-count sheets. He is sweaty, and filthy, and he would let this man do anything to him. His body was made for this, for Steve, designed expressly for the purpose of being overwhelmed by every jerk and pull and caress and breath on his skin, to be full of Steve, he’s so _lucky –_

Steve touches his cock, pulls it back between Tony’s legs, somehow, thumbs under his frenulum a little, and there’s nothing left; he’s coming, he’s full and stretched and then the world is greying out and Steve is panting in his ear and kissing him, kissing his ear, his neck, his sweaty cheek, before his breathing evens out into something deep and slow and fathomless and his weight shifts over, slightly, enough not to crush him, enough that Steve’s half-hard cock is still inside him.

They settle back into sleep like that, pressed into each other.

Tony thinks, _I love you_.

Tomorrow, he thinks. Tomorrow he’ll say it out loud.

Maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more of my snippets on my [tumblr](http://kiyaar.tumblr.com).


End file.
